


Late Night Chat

by spacejunkgirl



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Chatting & Messaging, Cybersex, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, PWP, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacejunkgirl/pseuds/spacejunkgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys is working overtime in an empty office, and Vaughn's in a boring meeting. They pass the time by sexting each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Chat

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: The typos and capitalization weirdness within their texts are intentional, especially uh... later! While I personally have not sexted before, I assume it would be difficult to concentrate, if ya know what I mean B) I also wanted it to seem and read very obviously text-message-y. Please let me know if it's too weird, but I'm pretty fond of how it reads currently.
> 
> Otherwise, I was slightly unsure how to format this? I think it works alright, and I can't think of an alternative that I'd like better. It was a unique challenge to switch back and forth between texting and actual prose. Again, feel free to let me know if it doesn't really work!
> 
> also I spent forever trying to figure out a better username for Vaughn, but I chose this one and it's laaaame. Apologies.

Rhys sighs heavily, pausing his typing to take a drink of water and stretch his back. The day has ping-ponged between hectic and boring, most of his time occupied by his current project: coding the updated security system in Helios’s Biology Department (Somewhat of a misnomer - most of the biological information discovered there goes towards deadlier gun prototypes) after a recent massacre by an escaped Skag. It’s not a hard project, nor dull, but time consuming. Between the project and having to fix a coworker’s computer several times like a glorified IT guy, Rhys hasn’t even been able to talk to Henderson, leaving a severe dent in his ass-kissing quota.

He glances at his monitor. It’s 6:00, at least according to Helios’s clock; most everyone in his department gets off work now, and they leave almost simultaneously, plunging the area into silence. Rhys feels a twinge of annoyance between his shoulder blades that he is not among them, but he has too much work to do.

The doors to his department open again, and there’s a murmer of noise as a crowd enters. Rhys cranes his head to look and sees around a dozen accountants all talking amongst themselves; Vaughn is near the back, and he grins at Rhys as he passes. Rhys gives him an exaggeratedly inquisitive look. Accountants usually don’t come into this department, and when they do it’s usually with bad news about paychecks.

This time, however, they pass by and head into one of the boardrooms. From where Rhys is he has a pretty good view of Vaughn through the boardroom window as he settles into one of the chairs. Rhys waves, and Vaughn waves back, before having his attention taken away by his superior.

It’s only around thirty seconds later when he gets a message on his IM. 

 **moneyman5** : hey what’s up?

Rhys blinks, pauses long enough to read the message, and then looks up. Vaughn looks sideways at him with a brief smile. 

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Why are you in a meeting this late?  
**moneyman5** : i don’t get off til 7  
**rhy5-w1nz** : Oh, right.  
**moneyman5** : aren’t you supposed to be off?  
**rhy5-w1nz** : Overtime. Deadline in a couple days.  
**moneyman5** : ohh  
**rhy5-w1nz** : What’s the meeting for?  
**moneyman5** : just revising how we do spreadsheets and shit like that  
**moneyman5** : super boring

Rhys looks up again. Vaughn’s not looking at him, pokerfaced.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Why are you in our boardroom anyway?  
**rhy5-w1nz** : Don’t you have your own down in accounting?

It’s a couple of moments before he gets a response.

 **moneyman5** : yeah but they’re being remodeled. can’t use em right now  
**moneyman5** : besides these chairs are sooo comfy  
**moneyman5** : we totally got robbed

 Rhys laughs gently. Briefly, he leans back and scans the room; it’s pretty much empty now that most everyone’s gone, leaving just him and one other guy he’s not familiar with, over in the corner in a cubicle. Rhys only knows he’s there because he can hear the tapping of his keyboard. He stretches again, lifts his arms over his head and cracks his knuckles. He’s about to type in a response when he gets another message.

 **moneyman5** : your shirt’s really nice today dude

Rhys looks down; he’s forgone his usual blue in favor of a black shirt, his one sleeve pinstriped with dark purplish-red. He hesitates, unsure of how to reply, though the comment makes his cheeks warm.

 **moneyman5** : i dunno why you like blue so much, you always look way better in black

Rhys blushes, holding his metal hand to one of his cheeks in an effort to cool the heat there. He looks up at Vaughn, who’s smiling sideways at him, half-smug and half-shy. Rhys swallows, choosing to deflect with humor (His specialty).

 **rhy5-w1nz** : You drinking on the job today, bro?  
**rhy5-w1nz** : Sweet talker

He’s already hit Enter before he starts regretting the last bit, swearing to himself in his head. It takes all of his willpower not to look up at Vaughn, hoping he hasn’t overstepped his bounds. He’s never been good at chatting, seeming to always fall prey to sharing too much information - especially with Vaughn. The silence drags on, the whole time his stomach twisting and his heartrate picking up in nervousness. He’s trying to decide whether to apologize, deflect again, or change the subject when he finally gets a reply.

 **moneyman5** : just the truth  
**moneyman5** : you look nice 

Rhys’s stomach twists in a different way this time. The icon indicating Vaughn typing disappears several times as he Totally Backspaces, and Rhys keeps his hands balled up on his desk, waiting.

 **moneyman5** : i mean you always look nice  
**moneyman5** : bu

Another round of typing and then backspacing.

 **moneyman5** : shit  
**moneyman5** : sorry  
**moneyman5:**  am i making you uncomfortable?

Rhys’s fingers fly across his keyboard before he can stop them, typing furiously, the tapping of keys the only sound in the room. 

 **rhy5-w1nz** : no go on  
**rhy5-w1nz** : please  
**rhy5-w1nz** : continue telling me how attractive I am 

He smiles nervously at the screen, his heart hammering furiously in his chest. As the seconds slide by with no reply, or even an icon to indicate Vaughn typing, Rhys feels his palms start to sweat. Regret again seeps into his brain. Steeling himself, he forces his eyes up. Vaughn’s looking at him between the top rim of his glasses and his lashes, his eyes dark, his expression a mix of amusement and something else Rhys can’t identify. Despite the glimmer in his eyes he looks startlingly serious, and slowly one side of his mouth quirks up until he looks downright provocative. Rhys shivers, dumbfounded yet weirdly turned-on. All too soon, Vaughn looks away, his attention stolen by his meeting again.

Rhys inhales, unaware that his breathing had turned so shallow. His fingers hover over his keyboard, trembling, his thoughts racing. Should he say something? He should probably be working, actually, though that’s now the last thing on his mind. He steals another glance at Vaughn, who’s not looking at him.

Reluctantly, he taps the Space Bar, unsure what he wants to say. The icon showing Vaughn typing pops up, and Rhys pauses, his stomach lurching.

 **moneyman5** : alright  
**moneyman5** : well  
**moneyman5** : for starters  
**moneyman5** : don’t think you keeping the first button of your shirt undone has gone unnoticed 

Rhys bites his lip, embarrassed. He hadn’t actually thought about it, though now he tugs at his collar nervously.

 **moneyman5** : the way your tattoo pokes out just above your collar?  
**moneyman5** : sexy as hell  
**moneyman5** : always has been 

Rhys snorts. His cheeks are so warm now he debates on undoing another button, though that would push him out of “business casual” and into “douchebag”.

Vaughn continues: 

 **moneyman5** : also  
**moneyman5** : your hair  
**moneyman5** : i dunno if you just slept on gelled hair or what  
**moneyman5** : but it’s kinda mussed up today  
**moneyman5** : and i gotta say, it’s really working  
**moneyman5** : also sexy as hell 

Rhys hunches his shoulders, embarrassed and flustered. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to seem casual as he looks up at Vaughn through the window. Vaughn glances at him, looking far more sultry and smug than he has any right to. It’s quick, barely a second, but it sends a current through Rhys’s spine. With a bout of uncharacteristic boldness, Rhys replies:

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Go on, go on… 

Rhys watches as Vaughn receives the message and smirks, and then replies to a question in his meeting. He switches gears seamlessly, more seamlessly than Rhys would be able to, though it makes him wonder if he can dig into that professional demeanor Vaughn is so easily slipping into.

 **moneyman5** : no  
**moneyman5** : your turn  
**moneyman5** : insert compliment _________________ 

Rhys grins, catches a mirroring smile on Vaughn’s face. He makes a big show of looking thoughtful, even though he knows exactly what he’s going to say; partly, it’s to soothe his nerves. 

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Your ass is fantastic

As soon as it’s on the screen Rhys is overcome with horror. Tact, charm, sophistication -- he has _none_. He feels his cheeks flare with heat, and he hides his face with one hand. One compliment, and that’s what he comes up with?

 **moneyman5** : oh  
**moneyman5** : so that’s how this is gonna be?  
**rhy5-w1nz** : If you mean ‘sounding completely stupid’  
**rhy5-w1nz** : then yes, apparently  
**moneyman5** : so you /don’t/ think my ass is fantastic?  
**moneyman5** : disappointing :( 

Rhys lets his head fall onto the desk in complete shame. Even despite Vaughn’s attempt to lighten the mood, Rhys wishes a pit would open beneath his chair and swallow him. The small blip of another message makes him look up.

 **moneyman5** : come on rhys  
**moneyman5** : i’m not even blushing  
**moneyman5** : you can do better than that 

A brief pause. Typing, backspacing.

 **moneyman5** : consider that a challenge, btw

Rhys lets his cheek rest against his desk as he thinks. He’s pretty sure that whatever he thinks sounds good now will inevitably look completely stupid and embarrassing when he actually types it out. How is it that Vaughn can make him blush so easily? How is it that Vaughn doesn’t blush at _anything_??

But Rhys is nothing if not competitive. And if Vaughn wants Rhys to make him blush (If he can’t get there through flattery, maybe making a fool of himself will make Vaughn blush in secondhand embarrassment?), it’s too tempting an offer to turn down.

He sits up straight, shaking out the tension in his shoulders.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Alright  
**rhy5-w1nz** : Prepare to blush your pants off

His head hits the desk again, shame sinking into his shoulders.

“Hey, you alright, Rhys?” His coworker’s voice behind him startles him up.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just… ready to go home, but gotta get this done.”

His coworker nods in somewhat faked sympathy. “Yep. Well, good luck. See ya tomorrow,” he says as he heads towards the door.

“You too.”

In truth, Rhys is actually not interested in going home at all now. Despite his own idiocy, he is having fun. More fun than working, at any rate.

He stares at the screen. Vaughn has written ‘lol’, probably in response to his faceplant, but nothing more. When Rhys looks at him, he is concentrated on his meeting again. Rhys watches him, watches how he nods and licks his lips before he speaks, watches how he adjusts his glasses, fingers carefully curved around the frames. He swallows, and Rhys watches his Adam’s Apple bob, his stomach twinging involuntarily as he imagines kissing--

Rhys gasps, coming to awareness. Some part of him is weirdly, inappropriately turned-on again, and he can’t stop the train of his thoughts from progressing down that path.

Kissing Vaughn’s throat. Pushing him into that comfy chair in the boardroom, a knee between his legs, just the two of them afterhours… No one in the boardroom would ever know. It would be a secret.

Heat settles between his thighs, and he bites his lip. He catches Vaughn’s inquisitive look and his thoughts grind into motion. 

 **moneyman5** : rhys?

Vaughn wants to blush?

Challenge accepted.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Just had to think for a sec  
**moneyman5** : ;)  
**rhy5-w1nz** : I want you to think about something for me 

Typing, backspacing, typing, backspacing. Finally:

 **moneyman5** : okay……..?

Rhys smirks. He takes a moment to assemble his thoughts, determined not to screw this up. He takes a breath. He can do this.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Just think about sitting right there  
**rhy5-w1nz** : but no one else is around  
**rhy5-w1nz** : except me

He pauses, hoping to let suspense build. Vaughn reads the message and then his attention is pulled away, and Rhys can see his hesitancy in the way his head moves. Good. His fingers tap away quickly, hoping to finish a good chunk of text before Vaughn looks back to his phone (And before he regrets it). 

 **rhy5-w1nz** : late  
**rhy5-w1nz** : you in the chair  
**rhy5-w1nz** : I’d probably have one knee on the cushion  
**rhy5-w1nz** : between your legs 

The heat from before bleeds into his thighs again, up the small of his back. He ignores it. He glances, sees Vaughn attempting to sneak peeks while also trying to concentrate on whatever he’s talking about.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : I’d be kissing your neck  
**rhy5-w1nz** : and your jaw  
**rhy5-w1nz** : and it would be stubbly because that’s the best  
**rhy5-w1nz** : and I’d nudge my knee up higher on the chair, right up between your thighs 

He pauses, finds himself breathing a little heavier. He watches Vaughn’s eyes scan over the messages, and -- there. The slightest tinge of pink on his ears. Rhys grins, though he has to look away when Vaughn looks up.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Got you

He leans back, clasping his hands behind his head, feeling very satisfied with himself. Bravely, once more, he looks up to Vaughn and sees him staring straight back. He smirks, raises an eyebrow, and looks down at his phone.

 **moneyman5** : touche  
**moneyman5** : but we both know you’d be on the chair

It takes Rhys by surprise, as does the sudden twitch of arousal through his cock. He tightens his hands into fists, attempting to get rid of the feeling through sheer willpower. 

 **moneyman5** : you wanna know what /i’d/ do?

Rhys does. Desperately. He glances around the abandoned room just to make _sure_ it’s abandoned, debating internally. How is Vaughn so good at turning the tables on him? And how can Rhys love it so much? Fingers shaking, he replies:

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Yeah

The replies fly in instantly. 

 **moneyman5** : i’d kiss you  
**moneyman5** : and i’d go over your tattoos  
**moneyman5** : hands and tongue  
**moneyman5** : and i’d pull your perfect hair so i can get at your neck  
**moneyman5** : and bite it  
**moneyman5** : lick it  
**moneyman5** : i’d unbutton your shirt and follow with my mouth  
**moneyman5** : slowly  
**moneyman5** : veeeerrrryyyy slowly 

Rhys squirms, his cock hardening despite his attempts to quell it. He can almost feel Vaughn’s breath and lips on him, can almost feel a hand in his hair, yanking his head to the side. He closes his eyes, trying to calm down.

 **moneyman5** : i’d give you a hickey  
**moneyman5** : right where everyone can see it  
**moneyman5** : and everybody would wonder who it was from  
**moneyman5** : and nobody would know it was a lowly accountant  
**moneyman5** : except you  
**moneyman5** : can you imagine going in and talking to henderson and having him wonder who marked you? 

Rhys lets out all his breath in a puff. The icon indicating Vaughn’s typing stops, which Rhys is grateful for, because now he has another chance to try and will his cock down. It doesn’t work. And nothing Rhys attempts to think of as a distraction sticks, his mind constantly turning back to the idea of Vaughn’s hands and lips all over him.

He shuts his eyes, running his hands along his thighs. The heat of his hands is so close -- so close -- but he resists.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Shit  
**moneyman5** : what? 

This time it’s Rhys’s turn to type and backspace several times.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : It’s ju  
**moneyman5** : gettin a little warm over there? ;)  
**rhy5-w1nz** : Shut up  
**moneyman5** : pants suddenly feeling a little too tight? 

Rhys rolls his eyes, looking sideways at Vaughn, who’s smirking at him. The tips of his ears are still pink, though, which makes Rhys feel slightly better. At least he’s not the only one being affected. Seconds pass, and Rhys’s arousal lessens. He’s trying to formulate a response when Vaughn interrupts him.

 **moneyman5** : you’re not thinkin about touching yourself, are you? 

Annoyingly and immediately, his arousal flares back to life. He sets his jaw, wondering whether or not to tell the truth, and fiddles with the side seam of his pants. 

 **rhy5-w1nz** : I might have to go and stick my head in the freezer.  
**moneyman5** : lol  
**rhy5-w1nz** : You’re terrible  
**moneyman5** : lol!  
**moneyman5** : oooh, imagine getting caught  
**moneyman5** : imagine someone coming over and you’re just jacking off  
**moneyman5** : to texts from me 

Rhys squeezes his own thigh. Now that he _is_ thinking about it, he’s annoyed and slightly disappointed that the thought just makes him harder. The risk of being caught should make him _less_ aroused, not _more_. His hand inches closer, and he lets a single finger brush over the line of his cock.

It’s a mistake. A huge one.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : shit  
**rhy5-w1nz** : I  
**moneyman5** : rhys you didn’t 

Rhys locks eyes with Vaughn, who’s got the biggest, most annoying shit-eating grin on his face. He shakes his head, and Rhys flips him off. Vaughn almost laughs before apparently clearing his throat and slipping effortlessly into professionalism. Rhys shakes his head this time, to himself, now letting his thumb brush freely back and forth along the erection straining against his fly.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : How are you so hot??? 

This actually does get Vaughn to blush, finally, just the slightest shade of red through his cheeks. Rhys’s heart stutters at the sight.

 **moneyman5** : ;)  
**moneyman5** : you having fun over there?

Rhys laughs.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : Shut up.  
**moneyman5** : but we were just getting to the good part 

Rhys stares at the words. His whole body shakes, the tension in his stomach winding ever tighter. He looks down to where his thumb is just brushing his fly, his erection embarrassingly obvious. He wants to touch so bad. Eschewing any attempt to be charming, he just types out:

 **rhy5-w1nz** : so tell me

Rhys stills his hand, keeping it close but waiting for Vaughn to reply. Movement in the boardroom catches his eye, though, as the group of accountants all get up, shake hands, say their goodbyes, and disperse. Trying to look at least sort of professional, Rhys opens his work window back up and pretends to type, even though the accountants leaving can’t see his screen. Still, it makes him feel better.

After they’ve all left, Rhys looks over to where Vaughn had been sitting - only to find Vaughn still there. It startles him.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : you’re still there?  
**moneyman5** : yea dude  
**moneyman5** : if i’d stood up it would’ve been embarrassing for everyone involved  
**moneyman5** : probably would've thought i like spreadsheets a little too much

Rhys is taken aback; so Vaughn…? Relief washes over him. He’s not the only one being a total idiot.

 **moneyman5** : they couldn’t have picked a better time to get out tbh  
**moneyman5** : cuz now i’ve got this whole place to myself  
**moneyman5** : just you and me  
**moneyman5** : and i’m absolutely gonna get my rocks off 

Rhys watches him roll his seat back and lifts his feet onto the boardroom table, spread far apart. They lock eyes, and Vaughn’s sly, private smirk, along with the idea that he’s just as aroused as Rhys is, makes Rhys’s cock absolutely throb.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : You still haven’t told me “the best part”  
**moneyman5** : i’m getting to it

Rhys leans back in his chair, spreading out his legs, trying to give himself more room. He has not touched himself yet, at least not fully, though he desperately wants to. But if the best part of Vaughn's story is what he thinks it is, he wants to wait.

 **moneyman5** : so as i was saying i’d kiss you  
**moneyman5** : unbutton your shirt  
**moneyman5** : kiss down your stomach  
**moneyman5** : let my hands roam all over you  
**moneyman5** : all over your chest and ribs  
**moneyman5** : all over your tattoo  
**moneyman5** : i’d come back up and kiss your neck again  
**moneyman5** : bite it and lick it at the same time i finally grab your cock 

 _There_. Rhys grabs himself through his pants, moaning as he squeezes. He closes his eyes and lets the heat flood through him, his muscles tightening and twitching under his touch. He opens his eyes at the sound of the message blip.

 **moneyman5** : fuck

He looks at Vaughn, who looks back, his cheeks now deep red. Rhys can’t see below his waist, but he sees Vaughn’s free arm working back and forth at a lazy pace. Rhys runs his fingers through his hair, flustered, before he remembers he should at least attempt to reciprocate. 

 **rhy5-w1nz** : I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you either  
**rhy5-w1nz** : I’d probably grab your ass  
**rhy5-w1nz** : pull you really close to me  
**rhy5-w1nz** : pull you onto the chair with me  
**rhy5-w1nz** : onto my lap  
**rhy5-w1nz** : so I could feel everything 

Rhys moans again, pressing the palm of his hand flat against his fly. The sensation isn’t enough, and he hastily unbuckles his belt and yanks his zipper down, getting his hand around his cock and nearly melting with relief. He lets his head fall back, mouth open, as he imagines rocking his hips against Vaughn’s, imagines their cocks pressed flush together, wet and hot and desperate. He shudders hard.

 **moneyman5** : gotta be totally honest here  
**moneyman5** : you look ridiculously hot right now 

Rhys laughs out loud, rolling long and slow into his hand.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : ditto?  
**rhy5-w1nz** : sorry  
**rhy5-w1nz** : typing is hard 

He sees Vaughn laugh, his arm moving a little faster now. His eyes are lidded, and then he closes them, leaning his head back. His bottom lip disappears behind his teeth, his shoulders pushing back and his chest puffing out. Rhys moves to match his pace, tension coiling tight between his thighs.

 **rhy5-w1nz** : I’d pull the front of your pants down  
**rhy5-w1nz** : mine too  
**rhy5-w1nz** : grab us both 

He stutters into his hand, shoulders hunching. His cock throbs, muscles clenching. He’s close.

 **moneyman5** : kiss youu  
**moneyman5** : bite you  
**moneyman5** : help you  
**moneyman5** : cause you don’t get to hae all the fun 

Rhys has enough sense of mind to grab a couple of tissues from his nearby dispenser (Never used before this, not even for his nose) before his hand goes to edge of his desk, keeping his chair from rolling as he thrusts into his hand, knowing Vaughn is doing the same in the next room over; the thought just makes him impossibly harder. The first hints of climax pulse through him, and he steals a glance at Vaughn, whose eyes are closed in concentration, a little furrow between his brows. His arm is working furiously, his back arched, his lips parted just a little. Rhys watches him, slides his hand down, pumping hard and fast over the head of his cock, feeling his climax about to hit him like a train.

Vaughn opens his eyes and meets his gaze. Rhys is gone.

He’s able to get his tissue around his cock just in time to climax violently into it, his whole body arching and writhing, every muscle in his body twitching. Electricity pours through him, and he rides it out for all it’s worth, pumping until his skin turns hypersensitive and his blood stops pounding in his head.

He flops back into his chair, breathing hard. Carefully, he cleans himself up with his tissue before throwing it into his trashcan. He looks up just in time to see Vaughn coming down from his own orgasm, and something low in his stomach twinges with a desire his body can’t currently follow through with. Vaughn also flops back, beaming, making Rhys’s heart skip. He’s a little sad he missed the actual climax, but there’s still enough oxytocin and other hormones swimming through his brain that it passes quickly.

For maybe a minute he just lays there, half-on his chair, eyes closed and head slung back, enjoying the silence and the air of the office as his skin cools off. His breathing returns to him, and he’s pretty sure this is the most relieved he’s felt in a long time.

His IM blips.

 **moneyman5** : awesome  
**moneyman5** : that was fucken awesome  
**moneyman5** : but  
**moneyman5** : i also made a fucken mess because i didn’t think very far ahead  
**moneyman5** : would you  
**moneyman5** : bring me a napkin or something? 

Rhys grins at his computer screen like a dope. Briefly, he remembers the work he’s supposed to be doing, before he saves it and closes the window, followed by his IM. Tucking himself back into his pants, he stands up, pulls a handful of tissues out of the dispenser, and heads over to the boardroom.

Vaughn is indeed a mess, though he doesn’t seem very broken up about it. When Rhys hands him the napkins, Vaughn grabs his wrist and pulls him down into his lap with a violent kiss.

They are both pleased that the reality lives up to the fantasy.


End file.
